


Of Tax Loopholes and Pirate Avengers

by NahaFlowers



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alfred Hamilton is a douchebag as usual, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, I like to think he doesn't actually have a superpower he's just awesome, I've left Flint's superpower purposely vague, M/M, but then why is James using a cutlass?, but up to you, is this a modern au? maybe?, maybe it's a magic cutlass, maybe it's for the aesthetic, people trafficking is also bad but everyone knows that right?, tax avoidance is bad kids don't do it, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 04:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11154642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: Flinthamilton superhero AU. James McGraw is assigned to be Thomas's liaison from the Navy Police. They have been commissioned by Thomas's father to stop the rise of vigilante justice. Thomas has different ideas on how they should go about it. (So does James.)





	Of Tax Loopholes and Pirate Avengers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zabbers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zabbers/gifts).



> So [zabbers on Tumblr sent me the prompt “So, it was you.”](http://buildarocketboys.tumblr.com/post/161634253255/so-it-was-you-flinthamilton) and my mind immediately went 'superhero au'! I have watched maybe two superhero movies in my life. Please be gentle. (I'm actually rather proud of this but I did speed-write it in an afternoon)

Thomas had been working with James McGraw for several months now. His father had tasked him with discovering who was behind the sudden rise in vigilante justice, a movement led by the notorious masked Captain Flint. McGraw had been sent to be his liaison with the navy police since much of the crime (and therefore the justice) took place out at sea, or in the city’s large and bustling port.

Thomas had decided early on that to tackle the rise in vigilante justice, they would need to tackle the crime. That was the root of the problem.

This wasn’t merely the crime of a poverty-stricken populace, trying to survive in a system stacked up against them. No, this was the crime of the dirty rich, who kept those people trodden down. People smuggling, money laundering and myriad other types of fraud, tax avoidance (often achieved by registering businesses on one of the numerous islands off the coast, tax havens for the filthy rich) – you name it, these were the crimes being targeted by Captain Flint and his band of Pirate Avengers. Some of them (the tax loopholes, for example) weren’t even technically crimes, but they were a reprehensible and morally bankrupt practice, and needed to be stopped, Thomas thought, by legal means if not vigilante ones.

James had laughed when he told him of his plans to change the law.

“You want to get rid of tax havens?” he had asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” said Thomas, quite seriously. “Or at least the loopholes that allow them to be used as such.”

“How? Most of members of the government are making use of these places! It’s how they afford their second homes! You _really_ think any of them would be willing to support this?”

Thomas fidgeted with his hands, then pressed his lips together in a tight line. “I cannot believe politics is so morally bankrupt as all that.” James was shaking his head in amused incredulity at Thomas’s apparent naivety. “These men do this because they know they can away with it. What if that wasn’t the case? Bring the crime of the action into the light and see how quickly they change their tune. Because it _is_ a crime,” Thomas continued, passionately, “morally, if not yet legally.”

“On that we are agreed, at least,” James sighed, still trying to tamp down his amazement at Thomas’s proclamation. “But how are we to achieve that?”

“That’s where you come in,” Thomas had said, and they had spent months formulating plans and gathering support.

Tonight, he was to present his plan on dealing with the vigilante justice issue to his father.

And James was nowhere to be seen. 

_Where is he_ , thought Thomas impatiently. His father was due to arrive any minute, and he needed James’s support.

The door was opened and Thomas felt a rush of relief which was immediately replace by a sinking dread when his father, not James, walked through the door.

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************

“You think you can stop those crimes, boy? Impossible! Those crimes will always exist. But we must have order. That is what I commissioned you to restore!”

“‘Those crimes will always exist’?! Fraud? Tax avoidance? _People trafficking_? Those things only exist because the rich and the powerful benefit from them, and refuse to do anything to stop them! Legislate against it, show these people how repugnant and ultimately _unprofitable_ these activities are,” Thomas spat, “and they will be forced to change their ways.”

“Those are the people that keep this city running! They are all powerful! You cannot change their minds!” His father sneered. “And what is more, I don’t want to. These crimes are necessary to keep society ordered, structured, to keep the unwashed masses from rising up and gaining power and ruining everything this city stands for!”

“And what does this city stand for?” They were both yelling now. “To keep those same masses down, to keep them oppressed, poor, _ashamed_? To allow the rich to have free rein, do whatever they want, crush those people under their feet for even existing? What kind of society is that? Certainly not one I want to be part of!”

Alfred Hamilton’s voice turn low and dangerous. “He put you onto this, didn’t he?”

“What?” Thomas snapped, angry and confused by the sudden change of tack.

“McGraw. I knew it was him. But you were somehow unable to resist, resist his words, resist him.” Thomas flinched like he had been slapped. “My own son.” He spat on the floor with derision. “Never mind that. You’ve been a disappointment for years. This was your last chance to redeem yourself, and you failed.”

Thomas stood up, shaking with fury, his eyes hard. “I’m leaving,” he said shortly, and made for the door.

Two of his father’s henchmen appeared, as if from nowhere, to stop him. They grabbed his arms and held him fast.

“What are you doing? Get off me!”

Alfred Hamilton stood up, slowly, drawing a napkin through his hands, before making his way over to Thomas.

“I’m sorry, Thomas. But you have come to close to my operations. And it’s clear you can’t be trusted.”

Thomas glared at his father, enraged and confused.

“Tie him up,” said Alfred dispassionately, turning away from his son.

“What? No. No!” Thomas shouted, struggling, but soon he was gagged and bound to a chair.

“Wouldn’t do to have you shouting the place down, would it?” said Alfred softly, patting his son’s shoulder. Thomas shrugged him off in disgust. “Although,” he added, a maniacal glint in his eye, “I do believe that anyone in this house who doesn’t work for me is now dead.”

Hate and fury filled Thomas’s eyes with tears. He spoke against the wad of cloth in his mouth, muffled against his tongue.

“What was that?” Alfred asked mockingly, but gestured to one of his henchmen to remove the gag.

“Is that what you’re going to do to me?” Thomas repeated, sick dread gathering in the pit of his stomach, although he fought to keep his tone defiant.

Alfred Hamilton beckoned to the henchman to reinsert the gag. “Perhaps, if you…misbehave,” he said, running a finger down Thomas’s face. Thomas barely suppressed a shiver. “But no, I intend merely to lock you away for the rest of your days, somewhere no one will ever find you.” He paused. “Especially not your beloved Captain Flint.”

As if summoned, Captain Flint burst in that very moment, holding a cutlass and covered in blood. He was accompanied by two of his band. They quickly disposed of the henchmen, the one known as Silver using his chemical glare to turn one into the precious metal, the one named Billy Bones also living up to his name, grabbing the second henchman and disintegrating his skin, leaving him a skeleton in a pile on the floor. Thomas winced.

Flint marched straight over to his father. He pushed him against the wall, one hand around his neck, the other aiming the cutlass at his heart. Alfred Hamilton looked terrified.

“Are you Alfred Hamilton?” asked Flint, and Thomas was sure he recognized that voice, hoarser and lower though it was. But it couldn’t be, could it? “Better known as the Slaver, or the Eater of the Poor, in charge of a people smuggling and slavery ring that has been responsible for the forced labour and deaths of hundreds upon thousands of people throughout the world?” Thomas would have gasped if not for the gag.

“Y-yes,” said Alfred Hamilton, and Thomas was pleased to hear his voice shaking. “I am,” he continued, tilting his chin regally, attempting to regain his composure. Flint growled and pressed his cutlass to his throat.

“Madi!” one of Flint’s men shouted, and both Thomas’s and Flint’s attention was drawn to Silver. “She should have the pleasure,” Silver said to Flint, and Flint looked mutinous for a moment, but then nodded and allowed Madi to enter and take his place.

“Wait!” said Flint, as Madi moved to draw blood from Alfred Hamilton’s sorry neck. 

“What?” said Madi impatiently. 

Flint sighed, and moved towards Thomas. He removed the gag, gently as if he were not the most feared vigilante in the city. “We should let his son decide,” he said, cutting Thomas’s bonds with a swift flick of his cutlass.

Thomas rid himself of the bonds that had been binding him to the chair, rubbing the spots where they had dug into his skin.

“Well?” asked Madi, knife pressing into Alfred Hamilton’s neck a little harder than necessary.

Thomas sighed and stood up, walking over to his father. The man that had abused and belittled him his whole life looked up at him beseechingly. He did not deserve his mercy, Thomas knew.

And yet…to kill someone in cold blood, with no means to defend himself…it was against everything Thomas stood for. Even though he knew his father deserved it, he could not condone that, not when he’d been given the power to decide for himself.

“We arrest him,” said Thomas, finally.

“Thomas-” said Flint, and in his heart Thomas knew now that it was James.

“No,” said Thomas, cutting him off. “I know he deserves it, but we will do this properly. Legally. We will put him in jail where he belongs and leave him there to rot, like he would have done to me. We will change the law and see that everyone involved gets their just deserts, see that the law and this city is changed for the better. _That_ is the only way we can carry on.”

Flint’s mouth twisted ruefully, but eventually he nodded.

“Madi, John, Billy, take him to our friends in the city. Make sure he is arrested and put under lock and key, and make sure they know what for.”

The three Pirate Avengers acquiesced with varying degrees of reluctance and frustration, and began the task of securing Alfred Hamilton and dragging him to his fate. As they reached the door, Silver turned back and addressed Flint.

“And you?” he asked.

Flint cleared his throat, looking carefully away. “I have business here to attend to.”

Silver looked pointedly between Flint and Thomas, and then nodded, once sharply. They left.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Thomas made his way over to Flint and removed the mask he wore. James’s face was revealed, as he had known it would be. He looked at Thomas almost sheepishly. Thomas smiled. 

“So, it _was_ you,” he said, taking James’s face in his hands. He could feel it warm beneath his fingers, see the flush that blessed the tips of his ears. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“Better late than never, I suppose,” said James, gruffly. He looked up into Thomas’s eyes, barely prevented devastation whirling in his gaze. “I could have _lost_ you,” he said.

“But you didn’t” Thomas countered. “You saved me instead. Your damsel in distress.”

James rolled his eyes and looked away, pulling himself from the inviting whirlpool of Thomas’s gaze with almost Herculean effort. Then, as if unable to resist, he looked back, and saw raw hunger and need gazing back at him.

“James,” croaked Thomas, desperately, and suddenly they both knew what was about to happen, moments before it actually did.

Thomas leaned across the gap between them and kissed him, ever so softly at first, but when he felt James’s lips respond, he deepened the kiss, pressing his forehead against James’s.

James realised his hands were dangling foolishly by his sides and raised them up to encompass Thomas, pulling him close and opening his mouth to him.

Eventually they broke apart and Thomas looked down self-consciously, but when he raised his head to look at James again, a smile was blooming on his face.

An answering smile blossomed on James’s.

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for not outright killing Alfred Hamilton. I always want to. But it felt more in character to do it this way, within the context of the fic.
> 
> Comments are love!


End file.
